


Bitter Sour

by Luigi_Luigi



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Arguments, EVERYTHINGS PLOT DEVICE MY CREATIVE BRAIN IS EMPTY AND CANT DO HEARTWARMING CONTENT WITHOUT ANGST, Familial Issues, Hurt/Comfort, IM SORRY I MADE HER A BITCH FOR PLOT DEVICE, MADE DAVID A LIL OOC FOR PLOT DEVICE, dadvid, this whole thing is pretty much just everyone inevitably yelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:14:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23363050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luigi_Luigi/pseuds/Luigi_Luigi
Summary: David hasn't seen his mother for a while, he brings Max along for a visit.
Relationships: David & Max (Camp Camp)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 267





	1. Just Get Along With Her

**Author's Note:**

> this is cluttered as hell I'm sure,,,, also I know I wrote something with h e r before but like, idk fit this somewhere simultaneously before and after that fic or. Just pretend u never read it and theres your timestamp aight

David’s mother was a lot like the man himself. Red hair, bright smile, and never ending cheer. She was certainly related to him, anyone could tell that. It was those similarities that made Max more annoyed by her than anything when he first met her. 

Her personality reminded him too much of an early version of David. The oblivious and pushy David that’d been intent on slapping a sticker smile onto Max’s face when he’d initially showed up to camp. Needless to say, anytime the woman graced him with her presence, she ended up getting on his nerves. 

“Oh, god, she’s exactly like you,” Max had told David, horror in his face. 

David had thought the comment was funny. He’d brushed off the complaints as nothing more than half hearted whining and Max had let the man do so because that’s really all it was, at first. Just a joke. Just huffing and puffing because that’s what Max did. He’d survived David, he could survive this woman. Except that they weren’t really quite the same, not exactly. 

Sure, they both liked to be optimistic and they encouraged a happy disposition. But where David might simply suggest those ideals, his mother tended to be a little more aggressive about it. She had to have everyone around her as happy as she was, as optimistic and pleasant, or there was a problem. 

To be blunt, she was kind of a bitch. It was some control issue, Max was pretty sure. A perfectionist complex of some kind that so easily turned what could be a genuinely nice person into an unbearable asshole. And, yes, Max was aware of the irony in calling someone else a shitty person when he himself could fix a few things about his own personality. 

However, Max was plausible to change, at least a little, here and there. He was somewhat self aware. He wasn’t demanding that anyone else he interacted with to like him. He knew that most people didn’t like him, especially not upon first meeting him. 

At the same time, he couldn’t help but feel he was getting the brunt of frustration simply because of how far he was from the ideals David’s mother carried. She didn’t like him and Max might’ve just accepted that if she had just been able to accept it herself. Instead, she was determined to mold him into someone that she would like. 

She wanted him to pretend alongside her. She wanted to have some fake happy family relationship. She wanted to keep up the pretense that everything was perfect and normal, when Max was miles from anything perfect and normal, and he wasn’t having any of it. 

The fun part was figuring out how to bring it up to David. His guardian had seemed to gain the sense to foresee the tension between his mother and his recently acquired child before the two actually met and he had specifically requested that Max behaved. 

No swearing, no degrading comments, no maiming or manipulating, and the list went on. The man had said, “Please,” and Max didn’t think it would be such a big deal so he’d replied, “Fine.” With each post complaint, David again asked for him to try and get along with his dear mother. He didn't seem to notice how much her off handed comments were starting to bother Max. 

It had made him accidentally back himself into a corner. Max hadn’t asserted the zero tolerance he had for the bullshit she was dumping on him and he wasn’t sure how well it would work after putting up with it all this time. He wasn’t even sure if he could assert himself, at least not without upsetting David. While Max would like to believe that he didn’t give a fuck what David thought, he did in fact give a slight fuck. 

The man had asked him to be nice. Asked. No demanding or threatening for compliance with the excuse that he was an adult and Max a bothersome kid. Just a simple, “Will you or won’t you,” request because David learned that was the most likely thing to actually get Max to consider listening to him. Max would hate to disrupt that precariously built respect. Still, he had to say something. 

“Your mom’s still bothering me,” Max said, seemingly talking to a box of cake mix. 

He’d waited to speak up until the three of them had gone to the store. It was late for the trip, but David’s mother had wanted to pick up some things. When they got there she’d sent her son and Max off to the baking aisle while she went to the other side of the store.

“Yeah?” David questioned.

Max picked up one of the boxes of cake mix. He flipped it over, like he was casually reading the directions printed on its backside. 

“You know, she doesn’t like me.” 

“She likes you just fine.”

Max flipped the box back over. Lemon cake mix. He set it back on the shelf and looked over at David. The man was scanning the shelves for white chocolate chips as per his mother’s list.

“She wants to like me,” Max said. “But she doesn’t.”

David spared him a confused glance. 

“Now how does that make any sense?" He asked.

“How would I know? I’m not her.”

“No,” David sighed and picked up a bag of butterscotch chips. “You certainly aren’t.”

For some reason, Max was more bothered by the confirmation than he should have been. Of course he wasn’t like her. Was David somehow disappointed by that? Did he want Max to just pretend everything was fine, just like his mother did? Max dropped his gaze to the rows and rows of frosting.

“Did you tell her to try and like me?” He asked. 

The aisle was silent for a moment. There was a rustle of chocolate chip bags and then David was standing next to him. 

“No,” The man said. “Why would I do that?”

The little flame of frustration that had been turning in Max’s gut for the past couple days began to spark.

“You told me to do it,” Max said, turning on his heel.

David trailed closely behind him as they left the aisle, but didn’t say anything in reply. Max wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear any excuses for the double standard. The most obvious one ought to be that David’s mother was already so perfect, what else could she pretend to be? Meanwhile, Max couldn’t even hold his tongue. 

The last time he tried to be this degree of nice, he’d lost it. The only reason he seemed to be getting by now was because he was taking out his snippy little remarks on his guardian. Unless he got to take out his aggression on the actual reason for his irritation, though, that would not last long either. 

“Butterscotch?” David’s mother asked, when they found her cart. 

“They’re out of white chocolate chips.” David said. “Max likes butterscotch cookies, though.”

The man gently elbowed Max in his side, but Max wasn’t really in the mood to acknowledge the lightheartedness of the action. He hooked his arms over the side of the cart, fingertips brushing against the bags and boxes of food inside. 

“Well, I suppose those might work with macadamia nuts.”

Max jerked his head up.

“You put nuts in cookies?” He asked, his tone harsh.

“It’s healthy,” David’s mother defended. 

“What if I’m allergic to nuts?”

“You’re not allergic to nuts,” David cut in. 

Max frowned at the man. Taking sides? His guardian knew he wasn’t allergic, he should know that he still doesn’t like them. Especially in cookies of all things.

“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” Max said, cocking his head innocently.

He should have felt bad at the way David paused, the man’s eyes flicking rapidly between his own, desperately checking that he was joking. Max kept his piercing stare steady. Let him worry, he was mad at him. 

“Don’t make fun about things like that,” A certain voice interjected. “It’s rude.”

Max’s stare faltered and David immediately lost his focus on him. 

“Now I just need one more thing and then we can check out.” 

The cart squeaked as it was pushed along, the two adults keeping pace and Max slowly following behind. For all that he attempted to talk to David, he just felt more irritated than ever. So fuck him. Let him get upset. Let him stay out of the way while Max dealt with the problem himself.

When they got back to the house, Max stormed over the couch and sat down. He tucked his knees up to his chest and switched on the tv. He was so worked up that it took him a few minutes to be able to acknowledge what he was watching. 

Cartoons. Rubber hose limbed characters and bright colors and wacky adventures. Max didn’t actually watch that many cartoons, considering his age range. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them, he just found more entertainment in hacking through password protected channels. 

He liked the shock value of gore and horror and trashy drama. Here, he’d taken to simply watching cartoons because that’s what most kids did. Because it wouldn’t upset David’s mother. Because Max was trying to be decent and nice. 

He changed the channel. Flipping through commercials and news until he found a show about detectives and murders, intense with bloody special effects. He watched impatiently, tapping his fingers rhythmically along the cushions. 

“My god, what are you watching?”

There she was. 

“Investigation show.” Max said.

“That’s hardly appropriate for your age.”

The tv was shut off. Max broke his gaze from the screen and turned to the red haired woman holding the remote. One hand was resting on her hip and her mouth was drawn into a tight line. She looked very displeased, beyond any disapproval that came from an inappropriate tv show. What, praytell, did she have to say about Max now?

“Davey appears to be a little upset.”

Max rolled his eyes. David got upset too easily all the time. Was he tattle tailing on Max or was this just some of that mother’s intuition? Either way, of course he was the one to blame. 

“He appears to be a little bitch.” Max scoffed. 

To her credit, David’s mother only rose one brow in reaction. She set down the remote and crossed her arms. 

“Is that what you think?” She asked, that all too familiar high and mighty tone in her voice. Max hated that voice. Whenever grownups took on that tone it meant they thought they were going to set him straight. They thought they were going to fix his attitude. 

“Think it, know it.” Max waved his hand. “It’s what he is.”

“Well, I think that you should apologize.”

Max shot her a sideways glance. 

“For what?”

“For upsetting him.”

Max narrowed his eyes. He could easily imagine the two sitting in the kitchen, flipping through cookie recipes, having a disgusting heart to heart conversation. There David would heave a big sigh and his perfect caring mother would ask him what's wrong. Max, he’d say. That’s what was wrong. Max the issue, Max who needs to behave. 

“I didn’t do anything.” He said firmly. 

“The way you’re acting tells differently.” 

“How am I acting?” Max clasped his hands together, taking on a pose that contradicted his growing anger.

“Like an inconsiderate and unappreciative brat.” David’s mother said bluntly.

Max blinked at her. He didn’t think she’d actually come out and say it. The fact that she did it so confidently surprised him. In his stunned silence, the woman continued.

“I’ve been hoping you’d try to be better, but since you’ve been here you just keep getting worse.” She said. “I know Davey’s sensitive, but you’re hardly one to spare his feelings. It’s that attitude of yours. It’s an awful thing and I think you’re aware of it.”

Obviously. That’s why he used it against his guardian.

“I want you to apologize to him because it’s the least you can do.”

She wanted him to say sorry? For what? Each and every time he’s made the man upset? For being the unappreciative burden on his back? For existing?

“You can’t make me.” Max jabbed. “You’re not one of my parents.”

“Neither is he.”

And with that sharp retort, Max realized what he’d said. David’s mother strode off with a huff, deeming the conversation over, expecting Max to do as she said. He should have been able to shrug it off, to further irritate her when he didn’t listen. But David’s mother was suddenly of little concern where Max’s thoughts were now running.

She was right. David wasn’t his parent. The man looked after, took care of him, but he wasn’t his parent. That wasn’t how he thought of the man. When Max thought of a parent he thought of his own. The ones he no longer lived with. The ones that left him alone. The ones he didn’t like. David was just… David. 

He liked David. As much as he was begrudging to admit it. The man did a better job struggling to raise him than anyone who ever tried to. Max knew that. He knew that he was difficult to look after. He’d always made it hard on purpose, as if making it impossible for anyone to be better than his parents, lest he have to acknowledge how little they were actually trying. 

He wondered if David knew that, though. Did the man realize that his efforts were not all in vain? Would he eventually tire of Max’s anger and pessimism? He was always so optimistic and seemingly never willing to give up. The lack of a title meant little to Max, but did it change anything for his guardian? Why should David act like a parent when he’d never be considered one? Why should he care when all Max ever did was use it against him?

Max rubbed at his face. It was this, this was why he didn’t like this woman. She didn’t like him, but did she leave it at a tense putting up with one another? No, she just wormed her way under his skin. She didn’t like him, so she thought he was bad for her precious Davey. She was treating him like he was a little parasite that had latched onto the man and it was up to her to get him to fall off and die. 

The best way to do that? Make him do it himself. Either make him so stubborn that he proves her right or make him scramble to change himself as she saw fit. Manipulative bitch. The really upsetting part was that it was working. He had to get away from her.

  
  



	2. You Are Why I Am

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If David's angry can I get away with making him do things he's capable of doing but just never does?

Max was a resilient kid. Stubborn and haughty, often too much for his own good. David didn’t worry about him, like some parents might fret over their children. He tried to keep a good distance, tried not to be too overprotective. Max was very independent and liked it that way. David let the kid, to a certain degree, feel like he was in charge.

Max talked to him. He chose to do it. It had taken a great amount of effort to get him to that point because Max was not the type of person to want to open up, but he talked. From there David would gently prod, as carefully as he could, to keep him talking. To let David know that something was wrong.

So when Max walked into the room and sat on the bed and said nothing, David frowned. He could tell when something wasn’t right with Max. He’d learned the tell tale signs very quickly because they used to turn into horrible arguments. Now David expected them to turn into talking. He wasn’t quite sure what to do when it didn’t. 

Slowly closing the laptop in front of him, David studied the boy huddling on the corner of the guest bed. Much too small and tense, trying to catch David’s attention and avoid it at the same time. For how all knowing Max acted all the time, the uncertainty was coming off him in waves. 

David stood and stretched. He wasn’t used to sitting hunched over for so long. He prefered to be outside, where the only crick in his back was from moving around too much rather than from a lack of it.

“Hey, Max,” David greeted, pulling one arm across his chest.

Max looked up at him, eyes flicking about unsteadily and unfocused before dropping his gaze. David’s frown deepened. He pulled his other arm across his chest and went to sit next to Max.

“Are you okay?” 

It was something David refrained from saying too often. Max considered the phrase to mean the man was over worrying about him and he hated that. It also tended to make Max opt out of talking for some reason. Like hearing the acknowledgment from someone else before he was able to point it out himself scared him. But David had a feeling this was one of those rare times where it was only if he asked the question that Max might tell him what was wrong.

The boy still didn’t speak, but he shifted and pressed himself into David’s side. David brought his arm up and wrapped it around Max. He let them sit for a minute, giving Max time. 

“You have to tell me what’s bothering you, if you want me to help.” David said.

Max pulled away from him, just barely. David didn't know how to react to that. Did he not want help? Obviously he didn’t want to tell him, Max never wanted to tell him, but was that a rejection? David let his arm loosen, keeping it wrapped around Max, but giving him space. The boy could shrug off the limb if he wanted to. He didn’t.

“I want to leave.” He said, finally. 

Oh. That again. David worked his jaw side to side. He’d known that his mother and Max wouldn’t exactly get along. It was mainly why it had taken him so long to mention to her that he now had Max in the first place. He didn’t want to get stuck in the middle of the inevitable disagreements. 

So he’d asked Max to tone down the sassy little attitude of his and warned his mother that the kid wasn’t exactly an angel. He’d thought it’d be enough. Just to get through one little visit. Aside from what David had thought were meager groans of annoyance from Max and raised eyebrows from his mother, he thought he was home free for the first couple days. 

Then Max seemed to finally tire of the minimal act he’d been putting on. The kid slipped his swears into the conversations and kept trying to start petty arguments. David couldn’t help but wince at each one his mother witnessed. She was good at brushing off the offenses with a smile and swift no-nonsense tone, but David had lived with her for 18 years and could tell when the woman was cracking. 

He doubted she would do anything drastic. She tried hard to not let loose that irrational anger and, again, it was really only David who knew how bad she could get because of how long he used to be around her. Still, he’d prefer to not piss her off. 

With that reasoning, it was why he’d been so insistent that Max try harder to be nice. It probably wasn’t very fair, but it seemed easier to expect something from the child than from the parent. Up until now it had seemed to be working. 

“Leave?” David asked in a teasing tone. “Already?” 

This time Max did fully pull away, letting David’s arm flop to the bed like a wet noodle. David bit the inside of his cheek. Okay, yeah, that was a sad attempt to lighten the mood. Max was obviously well beyond the point of quick fixes. 

“We’re only going to be here for another couple days, at most.” David said. “You really wanna cut the trip short?”

“I wanted to cut it short the day we got here.” Max said, shooting him a glare. 

“And you’ve gotten by this long, what’s another day and a half?” 

Max scoffed and pushed himself off the bed. David leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He wondered how he’d tell his mother that they had to leave early. He’d probably lie, say he was concerned that he might have left the stove on at home. 

“I know you’re not happy, but I really do want you to get along with her.”

Max kicked at the leg of the desk next to the bed. David’s brows furrowed.

“Max,” He chastised. 

“Stop fucking saying that,” Max growled. “‘Get along with her! Just get along with her!’ You sound like a broken record.”

He probably did. He was so hopeful that the two might bear each other enough so that he wouldn’t feel like he had to decide between them. 

“I only want the both of you to be able to appreciate each other’s company. Without me ending up as a referee.” David admitted.

“Well, you’re gonna have to be because you’re the only one who cares about that happening.” Max said.

“She cares.” David argued. “She wants to get along with you.”

“She wants to get along with the idea of me.” Max gave a sharp point at the door, where David’s mother resided somewhere outside the room. “The beginning-of-the-trip me who listens to the stupid ass things she says. The me that’s not an ‘inconsiderate and unappreciative brat’ because apparently that’s what I sound like when I stand up for myself.” 

The phrasing did sound like her, as unpleasant as it was. 

“She’s just a little jarred.” David tried to explain. “You keep swearing around her-” 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Max cut him off, his eyes wide. “You’re fucking defending her? Still? All I’ve been doing this entire time is trying to make her tolerate me because you fucking asked me to. Did you even bother to ask her to do that?”

“I,” David faltered. “I shouldn’t have to.”

“I think that you do!” Max began to pace back and forth across the room, like a cat stalks in front of a mouse hole. “She either stops getting on my fucking nerves or we fucking leave!”

“Max, we can’t just leave-”

“Of course not!” Max threw his hands up into the air. “You didn’t listen to me before, why should I expect that now! Who cares if your mother is a bitch, you’ll side with her to the ends of the fucking earth! Maybe if I had just sided with my bitch of a mother, I wouldn’t be stuck here with you!”

David’s jaw went slack. Of all the angry insults Max could have thrown at him, he certainly wasn’t expecting that one. A look of shock slowly overcame Max’s face as he realised what he’d said. 

“I,” Max raised a hesitant hand to his mouth. “I-I didn’t mean that. I didn’t mean it.”

His gaze dropped to the floor and he backed away. David swallowed and tried to collect himself. The insult had stung, but strangely enough it seemed to be effecting Max more than the person it had been aimed at. 

“Max,” David said softly. 

Max didn’t seem to hear him, his fingers sliding up the sides of his face and catching his hair into tight fists. David quickly reached out and took hold of the boy’s wrists. 

“Max, calm down.” David said as he pried his fingers loose from his curls. 

“I didn’t mean it.” Max said as the man looked him in the eye. 

“I know that.” David told him and the kid sagged against him, his small head thumping into his chest. 

David held him silently, thinking. Max was freaking out. A lot. It was David’s fault. He was expecting too much. He’d gotten it backwards. No, he shouldn’t have to tell his grown mother to play nice, but he shouldn’t be making his kid exert himself with the effort either. That wasn’t good for him. 

However, it couldn’t be the entire reason Max was acting like this. He should be angry and if he was angry at David he would still be griping at the man until he wore him down. Right now he was just upset, clingy for attention and comfort. Max didn’t want to leave just because David’s mother was annoying him, he wanted to leave because he was feeling bad.

“I’m going to talk to her, okay?” David said. “I’ll make sure she understands that you need a break. She’ll either give you some space or we’ll leave. I promise.”

Max puffed out a breath of air in reply. David decided to interpret it as approval. He hoisted the boy up and set him on the bed. He pulled the thick duvet down and rolled Max up into it until he looked like a marshmallow.

“Get some rest.” David said as he left the room.

“It’s only 10pm.” Max’s muffled voice called after him.

David really needed to enforce a stricter bedtime. 

He wandered down the hall, his pace slow. His promises were all well and good, now if only he could keep them. He did want to talk to his mother, but the confrontation was making him a little anxious. He wasn’t angry and he didn’t want to start something if he didn’t need to. 

They were just going to talk, he told himself. That was all. A little grown up talk between two mature people. He found his mother in the kitchen. She was frosting cookies that David didn’t realize she’d made. He pulled out one of the stools tucked under the counter and sat down. 

“That boy have a talk with you?” His mother questioned, eyes intensely focused on her frosting work.

David grimaced. 

“Could you hear that?” He asked.

“The walls are thick, but they don’t drown out shouting.”

David nodded, lacing his fingers together. He glanced across the pans of baked goods.

“Yeah, he’s just,” David shrugged. “A little upset. I, uh, wanted to talk to you about it, actually.”

“Did he apologize?”

“What?”

His mother straightened up, having run out frosting to squeeze from the little clear bag she was using. She raised a brow at him.

“Did he apologize?” She repeated.

“For what?” David said slowly, a confused look crossing his face. 

“Oh, Davey,” His mother sighed. She scooped up a blob of frosting from the it’s can and plopped it into the frosting bag. “You let that kid run your life.”

“I’m- I’m still not sure what we’re talking about.” 

“I told him to apologize to you. I was hoping somewhere in all that shouting he might have mentioned a sorry or two.”

“Uh, no.” 

Technically, it was David who needed to apologize. He shook his head. 

“Listen, Mom.” He cut in, before his mother could carry the conversation away from him. “That’s the thing. The shouting? There’s a reason he was doing that and it’s because he’s been getting a little stressed out. So I just-”

“Stressed out?” His mother laughed. “What’s he got to be stressed out about? He’s like, what, nine?”

“Eleven,” David corrected. “And I wanted to know if, maybe, you were doing something that might’ve been adding to it. Or possibly causing it.”

“So you can fix it? Davey, let me let you in on a little secret. There’s nothing to fix. He’ll get over himself, eventually.”

David drummed his fingers along the counter. Really? She was trying to shoot him parenting tips?

“That’s not what I asked.” He said.

“What would I have done?” His mother cluelessly held out her hands. “Grill him on how to complete my tax form? You want stress, that’ll stress you out.”

David took a deep breath, shifting his gaze to the cupboards in the right corner of the kitchen. He didn’t know what she could have done so specifically to crack Max like that. It was just a lot of things all built up. The constant “smile more” and “don’t swear” and the deflecting that she did. 

“Why’d you want him to apologize to me?” David backtracked. 

“He upset you.”

“I don’t remember being upset.”

“A mother can tell, Davey.”

David would have liked to have vouched for that. How else was he supposed to manage Max’s outbursts if he couldn’t catch those little details? But he hadn’t been upset, not where his mother would have seen. 

“Humor me, what made you think so?”

The older woman screwed on a frosting tip and jiggled the bag until it began to leak pink dollops. She bent over the cookies again, frosting bag firm in her grip. 

“He likes to argue with you. Thinks it’s fun to make you worry and fret and struggle to keep him in check. It gets to you. You might not realize it, but it bothers you when he acts out like that so often.”

That was fair to think. She was partially right, Max did in fact bother him a lot with his antics. David has since grown a tolerance for them, though. He’d never say he was pleased when Max snapped at him or purposely did something in an attempt to make him miserable, but he expected it to happen. So maybe David seemed upset earlier and maybe it was because Max did something, but then it should be David who wants an apology. Not his mother.

“I appreciate the thought,” David said. “But that was really unnecessary.”

“It was plenty necessary. The fact that you don’t think so is reason enough.”

“Why are you the one deciding that? If Max is the one to upset me, I’m capable of asking for an apology myself.”

“No, Davey,” His mother droned and David was really starting to dislike the tone she was taking on. “The type of person you are and the type of person Max is, do not do well with each other. You’re a good, lovable, nice person. Max takes advantage of good, lovable, nice people. I know you care about him, but I don’t think you realize how little control you have.”

What the actual fuck was happening right now?

“Max is a child,” David said very sharply. 

“Yes, he is. And you’d better start figuring out how to treat him like one or he’s going to get out of your hands.”

“Do not tell me how to raise my kid.”

“Davey, he’s not your kid.”

Despite his often cheery and easy going attitude, David did have a temper. He blamed his mother for it, in fact. Rarely was it expressed as more than a temporary rise in his voice and roughness to his normally light tone. Usually it was Max that made him slip up, the boy antagonising the man until he snapped. Once upon a time, though, Max had yet to exist in a world where David got angry.

“Is that what you told him?” David’s knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping the edge of the counter. “That he’s not mine?”

“You say that so possessively.”

“Oh, my god. Mom!” David collapsed his head into his hands. 

No wonder Max was stressed out. That comment about his mother made a lot more sense. It had been turning over and over in his head for however long ago David’s mother had put the thought there. If he wasn’t David’s kid, he was his neglectful mother’s. What a wonderful reminder. 

“Why in the world would you tell him that?” David asked, exasperated. “Why would you even say that to me?”

“Because it’s true and I think you need to hear it.”

“No, it’s not!” David slapped his hands down onto the counter. “I don’t need to hear it and Max most certainly does not need to hear it!”

“He already knows it! You barely know him, I mean, how long has it been? A few months?”

“A year. He’s been with me for over a year.”

“See? How am I supposed to know that? You don’t even talk to me anymore, he keeps you so busy running around doing tricks for him.”

“Christ,” David said hoarsely. 

He’d forgotten how twisted these arguments could get. Pulling in every detail, no matter how old or miniscule. 

“You just want to blame everything on Max or something? I stopped talking to you because you do this!” David gave a wild gesture to indicate the tiff. “The thing we are doing right now! It’s why it took me so long to tell you about him! It’s why I left!”

Then against his better judgment, because he was angry, he added, “Pretty sure it’s why dad left, too.”

His mother dropped the icing bag onto the counter in favor of putting her hands on her hips. 

“Your father left because he decided he had more important things to do than be there for his family.” She said, her face pinched. 

“Really?” David spoke mockingly. “I’d never have known because you never talk about it.”

“I just did.”

“Quite a few years late to mention it.”

She waved him off, wandering over to the other window where she didn’t have to face him.

“You wouldn’t have understood.” She said dismissively. 

David was not going to let her off the hook. They’d long since dropped the original subject of the fight, but he was suddenly seething with years of frustration. He wanted to let it out. 

“I would have understood plenty. It would have been nice to know what was going on instead of having to figure it out by myself.” He said. “For a really long time, I thought he was coming back. I was angry when I realized he wasn’t. I was angry that you just let me cling to the hope that he might. I’m still angry.”

“You’re not still angry about that,” His mother attempted to correct him with a shake of her head. 

“Yes, I am! Why do you always have to tell me what I’m feeling?” David stood and stepped around the counter. “Why am I not allowed to still be angry and hurt about that?”

“Because you linger over it for too long. It’s not good for you to keep all those bad thoughts in your head. They make you do bad things. Why do you think I sent you to camp?”

“You dumped me there because you couldn't handle the fact that I wasn’t happy. That wasn’t for me, that was for you.”

“Dumped you there? You loved that camp. It’s all you ever talk about. You work there!” 

“Yeah,” David agreed. “And when we were on the way there I threw a screaming fit in the car.”

He recalled telling Max and his friends about his first camp experience, about how he’d changed his mind and learned to appreciate it. He was making a lesson of it, leading him to embellishing or cutting out a few certain details about what he actually did. He’d been a bit more cruel than he’d like to admit. 

Once he finally let the anger go and mellowed out, though, he’d found camp wasn’t that bad. He realized that he liked the outdoors, never having known before because he’d always been a city kid. He realized that he’d only hated to go there because his mother didn’t want him around her, terrorizing her with his bad mood. 

It was actually very familiar. It made David wonder why he’d wanted to bring Max along to visit his mother. He knew it wasn’t going to work, so why did he do that? Why did he keep doing that? Leaving in a fit of anger because she refused to understand him and then going back later, desperate to make amends just so that the cycle would start again. 

“That only proves that I was doing the right thing. You were right as rain when you came back!”

“It proves that you had no idea what you were doing,” David laughed humoressly. “I came back home just fine and then the next summer I was a little ball of rage again. The camp helped me, you did not. You don’t get to take credit for that.”

“Putting you in that environment was me! That was for you! It was all I could do!” His mother insisted. 

“There were so many other things you could have done besides-!” David faltered, the rise in his voice suddenly dropping. “Besides... abandoning me at a camp I didn’t want to go to.”

“Davey, you don’t understand. I was a single mother with a son insistent on making my life a nightmare because he was angry at his father.”

“Excuse me?” David narrowed his eyes. “You’re a single parent with an unruly child who takes things out on you because he doesn’t know how to deal with his feelings? Your experience must be so unique.”

“It is! I raised you all your life. You don’t get to just waltz in and think you have all that experience under your belt and criticise me for how I did it!”

“You’re the one who criticised me! You’re the one who can’t handle the normal human emotions of a literal child!” David’s eyes started burning and his vision blurred. “If you can’t control it, you don’t want to deal with it! You did it to me, you’re still doing it to me, and now you're trying to do it to Max!”

“I’m trying to help you.” His mother spluttered. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”

“You’re not!” 

“Because you won’t let me!” 

“Because it doesn’t help!” David threw up his arms, exasperated. “Can you understand that? That telling me to keep a smile doesn’t make me actually happy? That pretending things are fine when they aren’t will just make things worse?”

“When you refuse to even try, of course it won’t work!” 

“Oh, fuck you!”

“David!”

“You don’t think I tried? I tried for so long to keep you happy by pretending to be happy. I couldn’t do it. Nobody can do it, nobody should have to do that!”

David couldn’t see the look on his mother’s face, his eyes filled with frustrated tears. He just wanted her to understand. He wanted her to try fixing something for once, instead of just making a thousand excuses. Instead of just scoffing at him when he tried to tell her about her flaws.

“I didn’t mean you.”

David groaned and paced over to the other side of the kitchen. A couple tears squeezed out and he brushed them away, sniffling. 

“Davey, I know you can bounce back from a bad situation. You’re good at it, you always know how to be kind and wonderful to people. That little angry phase was only a bump in the road, I know that.”

David stiffened as his mother laid a hand on his arm. 

“All I was trying to do was help you help Max. I get he’s not an easy kid to deal with, but that’s all kids at one point or another. You should know, you’re a camp counselor.”

“You don't know anything about Max.” David muttered, shrugging away her touch.

His mother opened her mouth to speak, but he didn’t want to listen anymore. He pushed his palms against his eyes, like he could push the tears back inside his head. 

“No,” He cut her off, his voice cracking. “I’m done.”

“Davey-”

“I’m done, Mom! I’m leaving. Again. We’re leaving.” David spun around, walking out of the kitchen and down the hall. 

He wasn’t followed into the guest room and for that he was thankful. Max sat up in the bed when he entered, wrapped in the thick duvet and stuffed bear in his arms. There was a tired look in his eyes. David blinked back the sting in his own eyes.

“We’re leaving.” He said, sounding a lot more calm than he was expecting. 

“I thought you were just going to talk to her.” Max said quietly. 

David opened his mouth to agree, but his jaw quivered. So he snapped it shut and just nodded. He glanced over the room, locating their bags. He picked them up and began to pack everything back into them. 

He remembered doing this when he was 18. When he was desperate to get out, tired and angry and tears welling up in his eyes. They hadn’t argued the day he actually moved out. His mother had helped him pack and drive the rest of his things to his new place. But the decision had come from an argument. 

David couldn’t remember what the disagreement had been about exactly, but really they all ended up being about the same things. Over and over because they could never seem to get anywhere beyond that one point. They never resolved anything. His mother was determined to fix things the easy way by not ever fixing them at all. She just let David scream and cry until he couldn’t take it anymore and left. To his room, for a walk or drive, to a new place miles and miles away. 

And here he was still doing it. Maybe this time he’d stay gone. David slumped down, his knees hitting loudly on the wood floor, head dropping into his hands. He bit hard into his bottom lip in an attempt to keep his sobs contained, shoulders shaking with the effort. He was still so angry. 

Two small hands pulled gently at his wrists. He looked up, Max’s blurred face coming into view. He blinked, clearing the tears from his eyes, revealing the worried look on the boy’s face. He seemed to be at a loss at what to do, yet anxious to do anything but sit and watch. 

“I didn’t,” Max started and stopped. “I just wanted you to fix things. I didn’t want that to happen.”

He looked scared. David snatched the kid up into his arms, squeezing him into a hug. Max tensed as the wind was knocked out of him, but once he recovered he let himself relax. He slipped his arms loose and hung them around David’s neck. 

“I can’t fix it,” David said, his pitch high. “I’ve tried. For a long time. I can’t fix it.”

“That’s okay.” Max told him.

Max was a good kid. David didn’t care whatever crap his mother tried to tell him. He knew better. Max may be bitter and angry, but he was good inside. David knew because he too was once bitter and angry. Sometimes he still was. 

He let go of Max, putting his attention back to the packing. The two finished gathering their things and walked out of the room. As they went down the hall, Max hooked his fingers into David’s pocket, hanging onto the man. David rested his own hand on the kid’s shoulder, keeping them moving until they got to the car. 

Everything was packed inside the trunk and they drove away. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND THEN THEY WENT TO MCDONALDS!!!

**Author's Note:**

> her names probably Karen (RESPECT THE DRIP) or some shit and if her character ever becomes canon she's probably gonna be real nice and I'm gonna feel like an asshole


End file.
